She's Got The Devil In Her Heart
by voodoogypsyeyes
Summary: There's a new Dark Lord in town... and he has his eyes on a certain Hermione Granger. Their seventh year at Hogwarts retold. Dark!Harry, H/Hr, H/G, H/R, H/D, M/F, M/M, a bit (OK, more than a bit) of Noncon, and some slight graphic violence. Work in progress!
1. Chapter 1

DISCLAIMER: I don't own Harry Potter, or any Beatles songs that may find their way into this (including the title), and I sadly do not profit from this at all.

A/N: The main pairing in this is Harry/Hermione, but in this fic Harry shags basically everyone, whether they want him to or not. On another note, I started this about 10 years ago, around the time OotP was released, so this fic is obviously ignorant of the events of the later books. I only just recently found it again, and decided to finish it and share it because I feel it's actually pretty good. I've never shared anything that I've written. I think I was actually a better writer at 17. I mean it's not a very "deep" fic or anything but it's fun. For more fun, see if you can spot where I stopped writing as a 17-year-old and continued as a drug-addled 27-year-old! Happy Halloween!

This is currently a work in progress as I am still finishing the final chapter.

A/N PART 2: I have also posted this on AO3 because I'm aware that this website can sometimes be a wanker.

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><p>Hermione looked up from her Potions homework as Harry stepped through the portrait hole and into the Gryffindor common room. She smiled at him and he smiled back as he approached her table.<p>

He looked down at the table and suppressed a laugh. There were books, parchment, and quills strewn across every inch of it.

"D'you know, Hermione, if you don't start studying a bit harder, you might fail your N.E.W.T.s."

Hermione stared at him, and then had to suppress a laugh as well.

Harry grinned and seated himself next to her.

"Where's Ron then? Asleep?" asked Harry.

Hermione nodded and looked at him inquisitively. "Where did you go off to?"

Harry blinked. "Library."

"Did you? Whatever for?" asked Hermione, narrowing her eyes at him.

Harry grinned again.

"Studying, Hermione," replied Harry with a wink. "Head Boy badges don't earn themselves, you know."

Hermione eyed him suspiciously for a moment, and returned to her homework.

Harry squinted at the parchment she was scribbling upon. "Potions?"

"Yes," said Hermione. She glanced up at him. "Finished yours?"

"Nope," answered Harry bemusedly. He reached into his bookbag and extracted a blank roll of parchment, a quill and a bottle of ink. Pushing aside a large, leather-bound tome of Hermione's, he smoothed out the piece of parchment and loaded up his eagle-feather quill. "You're going to help me with this, aren't you?"

Hermione shot him an incredulous look.

"Help you?" scoffed Hermione. "Correct me if I'm wrong, but you are Head Boy are you not?"

Harry fought another urge to laugh.

"Right you are, your Head Girlship," said Harry, smirking. "On our own then."

Hermione rolled her eyes and resumed her frantic scribbling. They worked in silence for several minutes, Harry occasionally twirling his quill as he thought what to write next.

Hermione had completed around seven inches of parchment out of the required eight, when she felt Harry's eyes on her. She shivered involuntarily and turned her head to look at him.

Harry's eyes were completely focused upon his sheet of parchment as he continued to scrawl. Hermione examined his work and smirked. Three inches already. _So the title of Head Boy fits_, Hermione mused.

Hermione turned back towards her own parchment and continued to scribble. She noticed Harry leaning towards her just a fraction of a second too late.

"Tsk, tsk, Miss Granger," whispered Harry admonishingly in her ear, laughing as she jumped nearly out of her chair. "You of all people should know that the correct amount of time for lacewings to be stewed in making the Polyjuice Potion is twenty-one, not thirty-one."

Hermione stared at him, and then realised that he'd been studying her parchment. She looked down at her homework. _Damn_, Hermione thought angrily. She brushed the feathertip of her E-Z-Rase quill across the mistake and the words vanished from the parchment.

Having written the correct number this time, Hermione finished her Potions essay in only a few minutes. She rolled it up carefully, slid it inside her bookbag, and then gathered up the rest of her belongings. The books she stacked neatly on the table.

Harry looked up from his six inches of inscribed parchment.

"Night, Hermione."

"Goodnight, Harry," said Hermione with a sleepy smile. "Quarter past eleven. You'd best get on with it."

Harry nodded and without another word, turned back towards the table and complied.

Hermione yawned contentedly and made her way up to the seventh-year girls' dormitory.


	2. Chapter 2

Harry laughed loudly. "You're taking the mickey, right?"

Hermione had just come down the girls' staircase to the common room. She looked in the direction of Harry's voice to find him and Ron chatting enthusiastically.

"I'm not, mate, I swear it," said Ron earnestly. "She—oh, hey, 'Mione."

Harry started and looked around to find Hermione standing behind him.

"Morning," said Harry brightly.

Hermione studied them both, furrowing her brow.

"What were you talking about just now?" inquired Hermione.

Harry and Ron glanced sideways at each other and identical grins crossed their faces.

Ron elaborated. "Ginny. I got up early this morning and I found her—" Harry sniggered uncontrollably and immediately silenced himself, averting his eyes to one side. "I found her digging through Harry's bookbag and sniffing at all of his things." This time they both sniggered.

Hermione laughed. "You're serious?" Ron nodded, and then he and Harry began laughing hysterically.

When Ron was finally able to speak, he clutched his side and gasped out, "I think she especially fancied your History of Magic textbook, Harry!"

Which only made them laugh harder, Harry a millisecond away from collapsing on the floor.

Hermione giggled and said, "Well, that's no surprise. Ninety-nine percent of the time it's used as a pillow."

Harry caught her eye and collapsed on the floor, laughing himself silly.

Hermione laughed again and looked up at Ron. "How did she get Harry's bookbag?"

Ron forced himself to stop giggling and said, "She—she found it in the common room. Harry says he left it here last night."

"I see," said Hermione with a smile. Harry got to his feet slowly, wiping tears of mirth from his face.

"Breakfast, _mes amis_," said Harry in a surprisingly good French accent.

Hermione grinned and watched him sling his bookbag over his shoulder, and the three of them joked and laughed on their way down to the Great Hall for breakfast.

The Monday that ensued was not a particularly enthralling one. They grumbled themselves through Transfiguration, snored themselves through a double period of History of Magic, scoffed themselves through Divination, and then came Double Potions.

Harry Potter, newly appointed Head Boy, seventh-year student and Captain of the Gryffindor House Quidditch Team, no longer dreaded this subject. In fact, he had become the best Potionmaker in his year. Arguably the best in the school.

Harry entered the classroom and immediately made for the front. Professor Snape watched him as he approached, but not with hatred as he once had, nor with disgust.

Standing before Snape, Harry withdrew a scroll from his bookbag and handed it to the professor.

"Essay on Transfiguring Potions, sir."

Snape took the scroll from him and rewarded the boy with the tiniest of smiles. Harry's mouth twitched in a half-smile before he turned and made for his usual seat in the front. Ron and Hermione joined him, reluctant and still not quite used to their friend's eagerness.

Another thing that incessantly shocked the both of them was the lack of animosity their friend Harry now showed towards Draco Malfoy. The most vile Prince of Slytherin had always sat in the front of the class, and lately he and Harry had been sitting across the aisle from each other. Hermione didn't think that this was unintentional.

Hermione had even seen Malfoy pass Harry a note once, which Harry returned shortly. When Malfoy had read Harry's response, far from scowling at the Gryffindor, he shot him a wicked grin, which Harry then returned.

Hermione was confunded.

Crabbe and Goyle seemed to be confunded as well, but perhaps that was just their perpetual idiocy.


	3. Chapter 3

"_I am he as you are he as you are me and we are all together!_"

Ron and Hermione gawked at their friend. Harry was... _singing?_

Harry didn't seem to notice their stares and continued.

"_See how they run like pigs from a gun, see how they fly_..." Harry sang softly.

They had just sat down to supper in the Great Hall. Harry was staring down at his shepherd's pie, a blank expression on his face.

"_I'm crying_," sang Harry, smiling. "_Sitting on a cornflake! Waiting for the van to come_..."

Suddenly Harry looked up at Ron.

"_Corporation teeshirt, stupid bloody Tuesday, man you been a naughty boy, you let your face grow long_," sang Harry to a somewhat frightened Ron Weasley.

Ron looked over at Hermione and then at Harry.

"Harry, what—"

"I am the eggman." Harry murmured, still gazing at Ron. Then he abruptly started singing again.

"_They are the eggmen_."

"Harry, _what_—"

"_I am the walrus... GOO GOO GOO JOOB!_" cried Harry, and the Creevey brothers, who had sat opposite him, fell off their bench.

All down the Gryffindor table, necks craned and heads turned to look at Harry.

Harry smiled and picking up his fork, he tucked into his food without another word.

Ron and Hermione shared another anxious look and then followed suit.

Harry was silent all through supper and as they walked back to Gryffindor tower. Seating themselves in plush crimson chairs around the Gryffindor fireplace, Ron and Hermione observed Harry closely. Harry did not sit; instead, he stood facing away from Ron and Hermione, his hands clasped behind his back.

Harry suddenly pivoted and faced Ron and Hermione.

"Why do you look at me like that?" asked Harry quietly. His head was bowed slightly and his eyes glittered at them from behind his dark fringe.

Ron's face twisted with confusion. "What d'you mean, mate?"

Harry walked over to stand directly in front of Ron. Harry's eyes were focused on Ron's face as he slowly leaned down. Harry's hands gripped the arms of Ron's chair.

"Like this."

Ron had pressed himself as far back into his chair as he could. His eyes were wide and his pulse throbbed visibly in his throat.

Hermione sat forwards in her chair and was about to speak when Harry's eyes turned upon her.

"I've seen the way you two look at me lately," said Harry, eyes blazing. "Mad, am I? Disturbed? Unbalanced? Is that what you think of me?"

"We don't think you're unbalanced, Harry, honest!" said Ron in a high-pitched voice quite different from his own.

Harry's eyes returned to Ron's.

"Enough, Weasel. I heard you telling Hermione just now that I'm a nutter," Harry snarled. Ron gasped.

"I—how did y—"

"I heard, and that's all you need to know."

Harry's eyes again darted towards Hermione, and he leaned even closer to Ron.

"Do I scare you, little Weasel?" whispered Harry. He pressed his nose into Ron's rust-coloured hair and inhaled deeply.

Ron flew out of his chair. When he had put a good distance between himself and Harry, he took a deep breath.

"Stay the hell away from me, Potter," said Ron quietly. "Y'know, Percy was right about you. I should have taken his advice then and—"

Harry laughed. "What, 'severed ties with me'? Oh go on then, Weasel, if you're that insecure."

Ron's ears glowed a violent red and he glared at Harry.

"You're a... a freak. And a poof. You stay away from me, hear?"

Harry raised his eyebrows at Ron and grinned.

"You'd best watch your mouth, Weasel, or I might sodomise it in your sleep."

Ron's face went the colour of the chair he had sat in just a few seconds ago. He stormed out of the common room.

Harry sat down in the vacant chair and pushed his glasses up on his nose. Hermione watched him apprehensively.

Without looking at her, Harry said, "Something troubling you, Hermione?"

Hermione wasn't sure how to answer. Her mind couldn't process exactly what had just happened.

When Hermione didn't reply, Harry spoke again.

"It's all right, Hermione, I forgive you. Weasel, on the other hand..."

Harry gave a snort of disgust.

"Weasel is too pathetic for words. Ever since we met on the school train he's followed me around like some lost puppy, slobbering over me as if I were a Pumpkin Pasty."

Harry paused, then went on.

"Ever since fifth year, he's been behaving rather strangely around me. Too... cheerful. I thought maybe you two were ah... hiding something from me," said Harry, and he turned to scrutinise her. Hermione smiled faintly.

"We never hid anything from you, Harry. You know that."

A smile ghosted over Harry's face. "Yes, I know." He looked down at the floor, carpeted in gold and scarlet. "I know why he was acting oddly around me. He's afraid. He's afraid of me."

What shocked Hermione was that his voice lacked any sort of grief or anger. There was only perfect calm.

"He stank of fear. I could _smell_ it on him. Weasel."

Harry gave another snort, this one of amusement. He got to his feet and looked down at Hermione. Hermione looked cautiously back up at him.

"I know you're not like that, Hermione. You are a loyal friend, my friend, you always have been. I know that you're worried. There's nothing to be worried about," said Harry, looking fondly down at her.

Hermione's throat and eyes suddenly went dry, and she blinked against the terrible urge to weep. She looked up at him with all the love that she felt and as he smiled, she knew that she didn't need to say a word.

"I'm going to the library. I need to look something up for our Charms homework."

Hermione nodded, and Harry left the common room.

Hermione sat there for a long while, reliving the events that had just taken place before her. Harry and Ron had argued a few times before, and it usually took about five weeks or so before one of them would concede. And she knew how Ron felt about people calling him Weasel. She had a feeling that it would take much, much longer this time.

Perhaps as long as eternity. With that thought, grief swept over her.

She loved them both equally. They were her first and best friends, both in the Muggle world and the magical world. She couldn't stand the thought of having to choose between them.

She rose from her chair and resolutely made her way out of the common room towards the library.


	4. Chapter 4

Hermione surveyed the students in the library. Not one of them were the bespectacled, raven-haired Gryffindor she besotted.

She furrowed her brow. _He did say 'library'... if he's not in the library, then where in the name of Merlin did he go?_

Hermione then realised that Harry had been in the library every single night for the past week. She knew that Harry was a diligent student, but he had never been _that_ concerned about his studies.

Thoroughly perplexed, she turned to leave the library. As she did, she heard a familiar giggle.

Hermione looked around and her eyes landed on the unmistakable flaming-red hair of Ginny Weasley. Ginny was sitting at a table in a secluded corner of the library, her back to Hermione.

Hermione walked stealthily towards the hidden corner and stepped behind a bookcase. She carefully pulled a thick, dusty volume entitled _The Giant War of 1630_ from the shelf and peered through.

To her disappointment, Harry was not there either. Luna Lovegood sat next to Ginny, garish orange radish earrings dangling from her ears and wand tucked behind her left.

Luna giggled as well and said, "Moaning Myrtle? From the bathroom on the first floor?"

Ginny grinned wickedly. "Yep. Said she saw him taking a bath in the prefects' bathroom in his fourth year."

Luna frowned, and Hermione was about to leave when she heard: "But what was Harry doing in the prefects' bathroom? He wasn't a prefect."

Hermione froze in disbelief.

"Myrtle said he was trying to solve the clue in the golden egg... y'know, for the Third Task in the Triwizard Tournament. She doesn't know how he got in the prefects' bathroom. She said..." Ginny's grin widened. "She said that he's ah... got _quite_ a wand, if you know what I mean."

Both of the the sixth-year girls sighed, Luna in her usual dreamy manner and Ginny with a giddy longing.

Hermione, meanwhile, absently chewed on her lower lip. _So **that's** where he went... But why did he take a bath to solve the egg's clue? How did he get in the prefects' bathroom? What was **Myrtle** doing in there?_ The thought of Myrtle spying on prefects as they bathed almost sent her into a fit of laughter, but she quickly bit down hard on her lip. It worked, but left the metallic taste of blood in her mouth.

Luna smiled dreamily at nothing in particular and said, "He is quite the sexy beast, isn't he?"

Hermione arched a brow.

Ginny's gaze flickered over the bookshelf through which Hermione was watching them. Hermione paled when Ginny's eyes landed on her, but she then realised that Ginny's eyes weren't entirely focused on her or the bookshelf. "Yes... quite."

"Those gorgeous green eyes..." said Luna wistfully.

Ginny smiled. "And that voice..."

"That sexy little grin of his—"

"That tousled, fuck-me hair—"

"The way his Quidditch trousers fit around his—"

"Sweet Merlin," said Ginny passionately. Her mouth hung open slightly and her quill was clutched rather tightly in her hand. She seemed to mentally shake herself, and then stared down at the surface of the desk. Luna looked at her in amusement.

"So what was your brother teasing you about today? What happened this morning with Harry?"

Ginny's head snapped up and she stared at Luna. "Who said that it involved Harry?"

Luna smiled knowingly. "Oh it's just obvious isn't it? That was Ron's 'Harry And Ginny Sitting In A Tree' voice." Luna giggled.

Ginny blushed and looked down, no doubt cursing the observancy of her friend.

"Nine o'clock! Students, off to your dormitories! Off with you!" Madam Pince's cry suddenly rang throughout the library. Chairs scraped and feet shuffled against the floor as students packed up their things and left. Ginny obediently rose from her chair and began to pack away her things.

Luna also stood and faced her friend.

"Come on, Ginny, tell me what happened..." Luna insisted. Then she added, "If you don't, then I'll just ask Ron!"

Ginny's blush deepened. She opened her mouth to speak, and then closed it again.

"You'll... you'll just have to ask Ron, I suppose," said Ginny fearfully. She miserably turned away and left the library, Luna following with an exasperated look on her face.

Hermione quickly set off after them, and soon Luna bid Ginny goodbye and drifted off towards the Ravenclaw dormitories. Hermione followed Ginny up to the portrait of the Fat Lady, and hung back as Ginny gave the password.

After Ginny had vanished through the portrait hole, Hermione started towards it. She had barely gone one step further when she heard a familiar voice.

"— bloody hell, I mean, ever since that Mudblood friend of yours, Granger, told them they should take clothes and wages—"

A familiar cold, drawling voice. And then another, even more familiar.

"Draco, I _told_ you not to call her that," said the somewhat raspy baritone, sparks of anger flying from it. The voices were not moving, but were in the corridor adjacent to Hermione's.

"Yes, but, well, those house-elves think that they can just—"

"Draco," said the baritone again. Anger pounded in the quiet voice.

The drawling voice fell silent for some time.

"Yes... Of... Of course," squeaked Draco.

Again there was silence.

"Well, goodnight, Draco," said the baritone, seemingly satisfied.

"Er... g'night."

Graceful footsteps carried Draco Malfoy away and towards the Slytherin dormitories, but Harry Potter did not move at all. Hermione had a sudden urge to run up to her dormitory, but it conflicted with her curiosity as to why Malfoy and Harry would be holding a civilised conversation, and why _Malfoy_ sounded _afraid._

She had finally decided to just ask Harry what was going on, when he rounded the corner.

She was so startled that she forgot exactly what it was she was supposed to be asking him.

Harry smiled at her.

"Hello, Hermione," said Harry, sounding pleasantly surprised. "What are you doing there?"

Hermione mouthed wordlessly at him, searching for something to say. Then it finally hit her.

"Malfoy," she stated simply.

Harry tilted his head to the side, watching her.

"What about Draco?" asked Harry softly.

"You were talking to him. Just now."

Harry smiled. "Yes, I was." He continued to watch her.

"But... talking... not rowing... talking," said Hermione desperately.

Harry laughed.

"Yes, talking, not rowing, Hermione," he said in an agonisingly calm tone. "Don't you think we've all gotten a bit old for that? Antagonising each other for no good reason?"

"Yes, well, of course I do, but—"

"If I recall correctly," intercepted Harry, frowning now, "_you_ were the one telling Weasel and I that we should be trying for a bit of 'inter-House unity' back in our fifth year."

"Well, yes, I _do_ think it's a good idea, but... well, he's _Malfoy!_" said Hermione stubbornly. "The foulest person in the school! The son of Lucius Malfoy, for Merlin's sake! He's done nothing but be a sod to us from the moment we met him! To you!"

Harry seemed to consider her briefly, and then hitched the smile back onto his face.

"Draco... has changed, Hermione. We have decided to put all of our bickering behind us. He's really not such a repulsive person once you get to know him."

Hermione raised a brow sceptically.

"Now, really, Hermione," said Harry in a cheerful tone, "we shouldn't hold grudges, should we?"

Hermione's nose wrinkled up in an expression of reluctant defeat.

Harry grinned broadly and walked towards her.

"Now then, you didn't answer my question. What are you doing here?"

Hermione stared at the floor, searching her mind frantically for an excuse, and then...

"I was just about to make my rounds."

"Ahh, of course," said Harry, nodding. "Mind if I accompany you?"

Hermione granted him a small smile. "Not at all."

Harry walked quietly beside her as she prowled the corridors of Hogwarts, scolding the disobedient students for being out of bed. Harry grinned at their retreating backs.

"Hermione the Tyrant. You'd put Percy to shame," he muttered to Hermione, who grinned.

As they passed the third floor corridor, Harry caught Hermione's eye.

"I wonder how Fluffy is doing these days?" There was a look of remorse on his face. He sighed.

Hermione stopped walking and gently put her hand on his shoulder.

Harry looked from her hand to her face, clearly startled. Hermione met his gaze.

"Harry... why did you say those things to Ron earlier?"

Harry narrowed his eyes. "I already explained it to you, Hermione."

"But Ron... well, he... he was only worried about you," pleaded Hermione. "He loves you, Harry, and _I_ love you, please, just don't be like this!"

Harry's expression softened and he looked into her eyes.

"Ron... does not love me. Ron loves the scar on my forehead."

Hermione whimpered and slowly let her hand fall to her side. Her eyes filled with tears.

Then Harry reached up and cupped the side of her face. His fingers brushed away a tear.

"No," murmured Harry. "Don't cry..."

Hermione let out a wail of misery and lunged towards Harry, taking him quite by surprise. She squeezed her arms around him and sobbed uncontrollably against his neck.

"Oh p-_please_ don't f-fight with Ron, c-can't you just swallow your p-pride for once?" choked Hermione.

Harry slowly put his arms around her and held her close. He rubbed her back in a soothing gesture. They were silent for a long time, aside from Hermione's gasps and sobs.

"I'm sorry, Hermione," Harry whispered. "But this... this is not about pride."

He pulled out of the embrace slightly to look at her. Hermione sniffed at him, teary-eyed.

"I'm here for you, all right? Don't be sad. Everything will be just fine."

Hermione let go of him. She forced herself to nod, and wiped morosely at her tear-stained face.

"Shall we head back now then?"

Hermione nodded again and they made towards the Gryffindor tower. The halls were relatively empty, and Hermione had only to scowl at a third-year Slytherin before he scurried off.

As they neared the portrait of the Fat Lady, Hermione felt fingers slide against her own and stiffened. She looked down at her hand, but the fingers had withdrawn already. She glanced sideways at Harry, whose eyes were staring straight ahead. He made no sign that anything out of the ordinary had taken place.

"_Canis Major_," Harry muttered when they had stepped in front of the painting. It swung forward to admit them and they entered the common room.

Hermione slumped into a chair near the entrance, and Harry drew up a chair to sit beside her.

"Canis Major," said Hermione slowly. "Isn't that... ?"

"The constellation of the Dog Star... _Sirius_..." Harry finished in a low voice.

Hermione looked at him sadly.

Harry looked into her eyes. "Are you all right?"

"Yes, Harry. Are you?"

"Yeah."

She didn't say another word... she knew that Harry didn't like to talk about Sirius.

And then Harry started to sing again.

"_Mister City Policeman sitting pretty little policemen in a row, see how they fly like Lucy in the sky, see how they run_..."

Hermione smiled.

"I've never heard you sing before."

Harry grinned. "No, you wouldn't have... you like the Beatles, don't you?"

Hermione suddenly noticed that Harry had been leaning closer to her. He was now very near her.

"Erm... yeah, I do.." said Hermione. Harry moved closer.

She could feel his breath against her lips. _Too close. Much too close._

Harry's eyes flickered to her mouth and Hermione shot out of her chair.

"I have to go to bed now."

Disappointment filled Harry's face. "Okay. Goodnight, Hermione."

"Goodnight."

She hurried up to her dormitory and once behind the hangings of her four-poster, she took a deep breath. Her heart thumped madly in her chest.

_He's cracked_, she decided. _I mean, he's horrible to Ron and he's best mates with Malfoy, that's not right at all. Something has changed in Harry. And he was going to kiss me._

She collapsed onto her bed, suddenly numb. Even her eyes felt numb as she tried to focus on the scarlet canopy above her.

"_I'm crying_..."


	5. Chapter 5

Ron Weasley opened his eyes and immediately met those of Harry Potter. They pierced him through the darkness.

He opened his mouth to yell at Harry, but the words never had a chance.

Harry shoved his tongue down Ron's throat, grabbing Ron's wrists and pinning them down beside his head. Harry dropped his weight on top of Ron, Ron screamed into Harry's mouth and tried to push him away, and Harry growled.

Harry transferred Ron's hands into one of his and reaching down between them he opened his trousers. Ron screamed again. Harry sunk his lips against Ron's neck, devouring it mercilessly.

When one of Ron's legs, wildly flailing about, came dangerously close to contact with Harry's groin, Harry rolled him over on his belly.

Ron tried to buck Harry off of him and Harry's body flattened his into the mattress. Ron squirmed madly as he felt something very hard and very large against his backside. Harry moaned into Ron's ear, delighting in the sensation of Ron, soft and submissive.

Ron's pyjama bottoms were wrenched down to his knees and a dripping cockhead was pressed into the cleft of his arse.

"Fuck yes," breathed Harry, his voice and his cock throbbing with lust.

Ron trembled and tried once more to throw Harry off. Harry only forced him back down, biting down hard at the nape of Ron's neck.

"Goddammit, Weasel," growled Harry. "You know you want this as much as I do, you fucking whore."

Ron cried out as Harry pushed his cock up his arse, burying himself to the hilt, stretching Ron painfully. The hand on Ron's back slid to his hip and grasped it tightly, pulling the boy's backside up to meet Harry's own bare flesh. Harry sighed in ecstasy.

Harry thrust hard and fast, both the bed and the boy beneath him squealing and quaking. The pitch of Ron's cries elevated steadily as the large shaft pistoned in and out of him. After several long, deep strokes, Harry came, groaning and humping against the pallid, freckled back. Ron moaned and laid there, motionless, as the warmth spurted into and over his arse. Even when he had been drained of every last drop Harry still pumped his hips into Ron.

Finally he pulled out but did not release Ron's hands, which were gripped tightly above his head. Rather, his grip grew stronger and he flipped the boy over again.

Harry looked down into the wide blue eyes.

Ron was breathing hard and on his neck was a clearly visible love bite. He lay prone on his bed.

Harry smiled. Leaning down, he flicked his tongue out over Ron's lips.

"If you're a good Weasel, I might just reconsider doing that to your pretty little sister... though I daresay she wouldn't mind."

Rage shrouded the sapphire depths and Harry smiled wickedly, eyes gleaming.

He rolled off of the bed and disappeared through the hangings of Ron's four-poster. Ron heard him mutter something unintelligible and then cross the room to his own bed, disrobe, and slide the hangings closed.

Ron's throat burned and he shut his eyes against the terror and pain enveloping him.


	6. Chapter 6

Hermione sat in the deserted common room and waited for... for whom, exactly, she wasn't certain. She stared out at the glorious pink and gold sunrise.

Gryffindors steadily filtered out of the tower to the Great Hall, and finally Harry appeared.

Hermione smiled. "Good morning." Harry smiled back. "Morning."

Harry watched her expectantly, but Hermione didn't get up from her chair. He arched a brow.

"What's the matter, Hermione?"

"Well... I thought I'd wait for Ron." Hermione's voice quaked slightly.

A dangerous smile played across Harry's face.

"Oh... I'll just go down to breakfast then. See you later," said Harry. And he turned to leave.

Hermione watched him as he neared the portrait hole. She swore under her breath.

"Wait, Harry!"

She jumped out of her chair and ran over to him. Harry grinned at her.

Hermione sighed. "Shall we?"

Harry winked and gestured for her to walk ahead of him. Hermione shook her head in amusement and they walked down to the Great Hall. Only a third of the school had arrived yet.

The Head Boy and Girl sat at the far end of the Gryffindor table, staring hungrily at the wood surface until their food appeared.

Hermione had begun to butter her toast when a weary Ginny Weasley sat down across from them.

"Morning," said Ginny glumly. Harry and Hermione looked up.

"Morning, Gin."

"Good morning, Ginny. Sleep well?"

Ginny snorted. "No. One of the girls in my dorm, Beth, wouldn't quit snoring. Didn't sleep a wink." She cast a disgruntled look down the table at a fellow sixth-year girl, no doubt the snoring Beth.

At that moment, Ron Weasley walked into the Great Hall, looked around, spotted Harry, Hermione and Ginny, glared, and sat at the other end of the Gryffindor table.

Ginny furrowed her brow. "What was _that_ all about? Why is he sitting over there?"

Hermione looked despondently at Ron. Harry smirked.

"Oh he's just being a prat. We had a bit of a row yesterday."

Ginny's eyebrows shot up. "Really? What about?"

"Nothing important... a simple matter of personal differences, that's all," said Harry. Ginny gave him an understanding look and poured syrup on her pancakes.

Harry watched her intently.

Suddenly Ginny dropped the bottle of syrup with a gasp. She stared at Harry, bewildered.

Hermione looked between the two of them, equally bewildered.

Harry stared back at Ginny, eyes glittering strangely.

Ginny averted her eyes to the syrup now oozing onto the table. "Damn," she muttered, and drew her wand to vanish the spilled syrup.

Harry reached out and scooped up some of the syrup with one finger, then brought it to his mouth. Eyes fixed on Ginny's, he slid the finger slowly into his mouth and sucked on it with deliberate obscenity.

Ginny's eyes widened and a quiet moan escaped her throat. Hermione gaped at Harry.

Once Harry's finger had been cleaned, he laughed. "What's the matter with you two? Why are you looking at me like that?"

Hermione quirked a brow and then glanced down the table at Ron. He was staring at Harry, outraged.

She shook her head and drawing her own wand, she deftly vanished the syrup._ Nutters, the lot of them._

A few moments passed in silence, and then Ginny gasped again. Her eyes were squeezed shut and she seemed to be trying not to moan aloud.

"What in Merlin's name is going on?" demanded Hermione. She narrowed her eyes at Harry.

Harry grinned as Ginny gave a throaty growl.

"Nothing at all, Hermione." He leaned back on the bench.

"Oh dear GOD!"

Hermione's eyes widened in alarm. "Ginny, what's the matter?"

"No-nothing," Ginny panted. She shifted sideways on the bench.

Harry sat up straight and began to eat his food, seemingly indifferent to Ginny's unusual behaviour. Hermione looked at him suspiciously, and then at Ginny. Ginny smiled weakly and took a bite of her pancakes.

Hermione peered down the table again. Ron was now glaring at her. She gave him an apologetic look.

Ron's glare only intensified, and he turned away.

Hermione sighed in despair and propped her chin up on her hands.

Upon finishing his pancakes Harry's attention returned to Ginny, whose attention had drifted away from the food she had speared with her fork. His eyes travelled across her face and down her throat and lower still. Even the air around them seemed to grow thick with his desire, his dominance.

Hermione ignored this. She also ignored the pang of jealousy it incurred. Jealousy was not for friends, and Harry was her friend, and that's all there was.

Finally Ginny snapped out of her stupor and looked back at Harry. "What?"

Harry grinned. Perhaps it was just Hermione's imagination, but there was something extremely carnal about his grin.

Ginny blushed furiously and tried to busy herself with eating her breakfast, but Harry's gaze held her.

"Lovely little Ginny... sweet, pretty girl," murmured Harry.

Ginny shuddered, the blush spreading down her neck and under her shirt. Hermione could practically feel the warmth coming off of her. Not that she blamed the girl... if Harry had been looking at _her_ like that, such a _hungry_ look, she would have caught fire by now.

Finally, Ginny's eyes rose to meet Harry's challenging emeralds.

"What do you want, Harry?"

"I want to know why you're not eating your pancakes, Ginny."

A mischievious smile played at Harry's lips.

Ginny smiled right back.

"Lost my appetite."

Harry arched a brow and leaned over the table towards her. "Rubbish."

It was Harry who gasped this time, his eyes closing and his fingers curling into tight fists.

Hermione's brow wrinkled in disapproval. Her eyes drifted down to the vicinity of Harry's lap and then widened in shock.

Ginny's shoeless foot was... fondling Harry.

Hermione watched in horrified fascination as the diabolical foot stroked its toes along Harry's inner thigh, apparently much to Harry's pleasure as he let out a low groan. He spread his legs a bit farther apart. Then the toes inched up his thigh to _Oh dear Merlin that's his that's his his..._

Snatching up her bookbag, Hermione stood from the table. Both Harry and Ginny looked up in surprise.

Hermione gave both of them a stern look. "I'm off to Charms. You can meet me there, Harry. See you later."

Without waiting for a response, Hermione turned and marched quickly out of the Great Hall, carefully avoiding Ron's eyes.

As she climbed a number of staircases and entered the corridor to Flitwick's classroom, her mind was teeming with thoughts. _Harry and Ginny were... __**fondling**__ each other. Under the breakfast table. Right there in front of the whole school. What does he think he's playing at?_ "Nutters!" she muttered aloud in the empty corridor.

And then she found herself thinking, _What does he see in Ginny?_ A rather odd thought indeed.

The thoughts subsided as Hermione entered the Charms classroom. Flitwick beamed a hello at her and she forced a smile as she sat down. Hers was the only occupied chair in the room aside from the professor's. She opened her bookbag and took out her Charms assignment, her quill, and her unfinished Arithmancy homework. It wasn't due for four days but, Hermione reasoned, it was never too early to start on one's homework.

As students began to file into the classroom, Hermione put away her Arithmancy. Something pressed between her shoulder blades and she whipped around in her chair.

Harry was sitting back on his haunches so that his eyes were level with hers. Again, he was rather close to her, so close that Hermione could smell the pancake syrup on his breath.

"Are you going to explain to me why exactly you ran out on us?" inquired Harry in a gentle voice.

Hermione smiled sweetly. "When you explain to me what exactly you were doing to Ginny under the table."

Harry quirked a brow. "You really want to know?"

"Merlin, _no_," said Hermione, laughing. "I don't think I do. Sit down, Harry."

Harry stood and seated himself next to her. He reached into his bookbag and drew out his Charms homework, his robes slipping off of one shoulder. His robes were unclasped. Hermione also noticed that his shirt was untucked.

Hermione didn't need to ask him why his robes were not clasped. She knew just who had unclasped them. _The tart._ Harry pulled his robes back up onto his shoulder and properly clasped them, sending Hermione's thoughts back to Charms.

"Good morning, class!" chirped Flitwick when all the students had arrived. "It'll be page two hundred and three in your textbooks. Study the spells and write out their uses. I'll be around to collect your homework shortly."

The class opened their textbooks and began reading. Hermione scratched her forehead with her quill as she studied the incantation for a Transfiguring spell. Most of their work that year had been Transfiguration, as that was the trickiest field of magic. Harry pushed his hair out of his eyes and was immediately immersed in his studying.

Hermione found that every so often, her eyes were keen to flicker over the boy sitting next to her. The book just didn't interest her as much.

After all, who couldn't be captivated by those eyes, slightly narrowed in concentration; that hair, wild and dark; those lips, parted and swollen... _kiss_-swollen, Hermione noted. _Oh that little tart._

Then those eyes were looking back at her.

Harry didn't say anything, just watched her. She couldn't look away if she tried. Those lips... those lips had never looked so _good._ She remembered the time that Harry had returned to the common room one night in fifth year after kissing Cho Chang—he had looked something like this.

_That little __**tart.**__ All she cared about was his scar. And Cedric._

"Hermione."

Hermione jumped at the sound of her name from those lips. She looked into Harry's eyes. "Yeah?"

"Would you mind focusing on your classwork instead of me?" There was laughter in his eyes.

Hermione's face reddened and she obediently looked back down at her textbook, which once again failed to distract her mind from Harry.

Just why her mind had suddenly found Harry to be such an interesting subject, she did not know... he was supposed to be her friend. And nothing more. No matter how gorgeous he looked.


	7. Chapter 7

Ron ground his teeth in fury. Harry Potter looked at him, wearing a triumphant smile. Ginny grinned stupidly at Harry.

Ron could not eat his breakfast. The pancakes tasted of smoke. The syrup was nauseating. After several minutes of watching Harry and Ginny try to shag each other with their feet, Hermione had also grown nauseous, apparently. She had walked right out on them.

Harry leaned over the table towards Ginny and she also leaned forwards. He whispered something to her, Ginny smiled, and they both rose from the table.

As they approached the other end of the Great Hall, the end at which Ron sat, Harry slid one arm round Ginny's waist. That idiotic grin spread across her face again and she leaned into him. Harry led her out of the Great Hall with his arm still possessively around her, and Ron was on his feet before he even knew what he was doing. His fists were clenched so tightly that his fingernails cut into his palms.

He would not let Harry do this. The bastard had to be stopped.

Ron followed them out the doors and through the castle. When they halted in an empty corridor, Ron hid behind a statue and watched them closely.

Ginny turned to Harry. "So... what is this all about, Harry?" Her blue eyes twinkled up at him.

Harry took her hand and brought it up to his mouth. He kissed it tenderly. Ginny all but fainted.

Looking into Ginny's eyes, Harry said with false sincerity, "You are my universe, Ginny Weasley. You are beautiful as the stars, great as the planets." He pulled her closer and bowed his forehead to hers, making Ginny melt in his arms. Ron restrained with difficulty his urge to rend Harry limb from limb.

Harry let Ginny's hand fall to his shoulder and with his free hand he cupped the side of her face.

"My little girl," he murmured and captured her lips with his.

Ginny wound her arms about his neck and kissed him back hungrily. Ron's face went white with rage. Pulling his wand from the pocket of his robes, he racked his brains for the most terrible hex he knew. Before he could even utter a single syllable, he saw Harry's eyes dart in his direction and Harry broke the kiss, grinning.

Ron didn't notice Harry pull his own wand from his pocket. He didn't hear the spell that Harry aimed at him. He was hit before he even knew it.

Ginny didn't notice either, and she mumbled, "Why'd you stop?"

Harry put his hands on her waist and guided her backwards until she was against the wall. He pressed his own body against hers and Ginny's legs failed her completely.

"You're so lovely," Harry whispered and lowered his mouth to hers again. His tongue slid between her parted lips and Ginny moaned. They kissed deeply, almost violently. One of Ginny's hands tangled in Harry's unruly obsidian hair while the other moved to the front of Harry's robes, promptly unclasping them. Then her hand proceeded to the hem of Harry's shirt and moved up under it.

Harry groaned as she stroked his chest, Ginny gasped as Harry's hand brushed the side of her breast, their mouths fused together and they writhed desperately. Harry's hips began to rock gently against hers.

Ron found that there was little he could do to stop them. Harry had hit him with the Full Body-Bind. _Bastard_, Ron enthused as Ginny moaned again.

"Harry... oh Harry... stop... please... oh," gasped Ginny.

Harry pulled away, panting. He stared at her. "What?"

"We have _class_, Harry," said Ginny.

The idea of going to class was met with identical expressions of distaste. Despite her words, Ginny's fingers still played with Harry's hair. They surveyed each other as if admiring their handiwork.

Finally Harry smiled and released her, and Ginny smiled back faintly, smoothing her hair.

"Shall we continue this tonight?" Harry asked, green eyes alight with anticipation.

Ginny's smile brightened. "Of course." Her hands went up to his face and brought it to hers for another kiss. Soon they had managed to say goodbye to each other, and Ginny walked right past Ron obliviously. When she had left the hallway, Harry approached him.

"You know, Weasel," Harry began thoughtfully, "I didn't know that your filthy whore of a sister had such virtues. So adorable. It'll be so much fun to take them from her." He paused and smirked at the enraged yet motionless Ron.

Harry brushed his fingers lightly across Ron's cheek, still looking pensive. His eyes burned into Ron's. Ron swiftly looked away and hoped that Harry would take his hand away. Harry only chuckled.

Suddenly Ron regained control of his body. He stumbled backwards. Harry laughed again and stepped closer.

Ron backed into the wall, which he realised only too late was not a most brilliant idea. Harry forced his body against Ron's. Terrified, Ron threw his knee into Harry's crotch. Harry shouted in pain and fell to the floor in a fetal position.

Ron grinned viciously, raised his wand and advanced upon Harry. "You think I'd let you shag my sister, you sick fuck? Did you?" Harry moaned, cradling his testicles. "I'm afraid that was the wrong answer, Potter. _Expelliarmus!_" Ron shot as Harry's fingers closed around his wand. The wand flew several feet away. Harry watched it with dismay.

"You bastard," Ron whispered. His grip on his wand tightened. "I should kill you. I should _kill_ you _right now._ But I'd rather watch you suffer. And by Merlin I _will_ make you suffer."

It took a moment for Ron to realise that the quaking of Harry's stomach was not a struggle to breathe, but laughter. "What the hell are you laugh—"

"You... you stupid weasel," murmured Harry. He raised his eyes to Ron's.

Ron glowered at him, undaunted.

"You know you fucking liked it."

Ron was shaking with anger. His eyes never left Harry's. That green laughed up at him.

Then his fingers went slack, his wand fell to the floor. Harry was lifting himself up off of the floor, wandless and laughing, as Ron's fingers began to shrink back into his hand... and his arms began to shrink back into his body...

Ron tried to cry out, but the sound that came out of his mouth was foreign, inhuman. His _mouth_... he felt his nose and his jaws pushing outwards from his face, and his first terrible thought was of Professor Lupin's horrifying transformation into a wolf that they had witnessed in their third year._ No, it can't be... I can't be..._ but then he remembered that the transformation only happened under a full moon. And he was shrinking...

He looked up at Harry towering over him and squeaked in fear. Harry grinned down at him. "Oh yes... that is very becoming indeed... wouldn't you say, Draco?"

A snicker behind Ron made him whip his head around, and there stood Malfoy, wand pointed at Ron and a look of wicked delight on his face. "Very, _very_ becoming," he answered with glee.

Ron looked down at his body and saw that it was covered with reddish fur, his torso elongated, his limbs stubby and ended with tiny claws, and a skinny tail now sprouted out of his backside. Terrified, he leapt from the puddle of clothes around him and tried to run from the corridor, but he was caught in midair, twisting and squeaking frantically.

Harry knelt before him, smiling. "Weasel, Weasel, Weasel, you're only making this worse for yourself, y'know." Ron hissed angrily at him. "You're my little pet... and so is Ginny... perhaps I'll turn her into a weasel as well." Harry stood with a smirk. "After I've fucked her, of course."

Ron thrashed against his invisible restraints as Harry turned to Draco. "Take him to your dorm. Put him in something he can't get out of... but don't do anything else to him," said Harry, smiling back at Ron. "I'm not done with him yet."


	8. Chapter 8

Harry, Hermione and Ginny sat in the common room together; Hermione hunched over her Arithmancy homework, Harry and Ginny snuggled in a chair nearby. There were a few other Gryffindors sitting about the room. The notable exception being one Ronald Weasley.

Hermione sighed. She hadn't seen Ron since that morning, when she'd stormed out of the Great Hall.

She looked grumpily over at Harry and Ginny. Harry whispered something into Ginny's ear and Ginny giggled. Hermione closed her eyes in exasperation.

She stood from the table, threw her things back into her bookbag and muttered, "I'm going to bed. See you both tomorrow." She didn't wait for a response.

Harry watched her vanish up the steps but Ginny paid her no mind. "Mmm, bed sounds awfully nice," she whispered, nipping at his ear. "Doesn't it, Harry?"

Harry turned to look at her and forced himself to smile. "Yes... yes, it does. But first, there's something I want to show you."

Ginny grinned wickedly. "Oh? Would it be... somewhere in this vicinity?" she said as her hand slipped under his robes and travelled towards his crotch.

He grinned back at her, eyes flashing with mischief. "No, not there... are you up for a little walk?"

They made their way out of the common room and through the halls of Hogwarts, Ginny pawing at Harry as he sent students scurrying off to their dormitories. When Harry halted in front of the entrance to the Slytherin dormitories, however, Ginny's excitement turned to unease.

"Erm... where exactly are we going, Harry?" she asked nervously.

"In here," said Harry, smiling reassuringly. "Trust me... you'll like this."

She gave him a smile that said she didn't trust him one bit, but she forced herself to follow him into the Slytherin common room.

The room was empty, dark and sinister, and each step that Ginny took further into it increased her uneasiness. She looked at Harry, cold creeping up her spine. "Harry... I think I want to go back to the common room now."

"Why, Ginny," he replied, "we're already _in_ the common room." He grinned again, but now his grin was as chilling as the room they were in.

Ginny's heart started a furious beat in her chest, and she began to back away towards the door. "Harry..."

She backed into something and turned around, gasping when she saw it was Malfoy. He smirked at her. "Well, if it isn't the little Weasel bitch... such a pretty little thing, isn't she?" He looked her over hungrily, moving towards her as she moved away, twirling his wand in his fingers.

Ginny brought up her wand to hex Malfoy but he disarmed her before she could utter the words. She tried to bolt past him but she wasn't quick enough; he grabbed her and spun her around, laughing cruelly.

Harry approached her with a smile that once would have sent her heart fluttering with desire, but now filled her with fear. "Where are you going, little Ginny? Don't you _want_ this?" he said softly as his fingers gently brushed the side of her face. A tear rolled over her cheek and onto his finger.

He leaned into her. "I remember my second year... and you," he whispered, his green eyes flaring. She looked away. He leaned closer, grinning against her ear. "_'I wish he was mine, he's really divine, the hero who conquered the Dark Lord'_... wasn't that your little Valentine's poem, sweet Ginny? I can make that wish come true... make your fantasies realities..."

Ginny sobbed quietly and Harry pulled away. "Don't be afraid... you're frightening Ron," he said, and with a flick of his wand, a sheet flew off of a cage which Ginny had not noticed hanging from the ceiling. Something small and furry shrieked from within and flailed helplessly against the bars that restrained it. Fear and anger lurched inside Ginny and she lunged at Harry, only to find control over her body suddenly taken from her, and she floated in midair, a prisoner in her own body.

Harry circled her, their eyes locked together. "So troubled, my poor, sweet little girl... I know you've been having difficulty sleeping," he murmured. "And I know what you need..." His eyes drifted down onto her chest, as his fingers drifted upward, playing over the button that held her robes on. He unclasped them easily, cupping one of her breasts with a hungry hand. Ginny wanted to close her eyes and weep, but she could only stare at him and listen to her brother's inhuman cries.

Suddenly music filled the room, a happy and familiar tune, and slowly there emerged dark-robed figures from the recesses of the cavernous room, singing along with dark delight. Harry took up the tune with them, grinning from ear to ear.

"_Oh, I get by with a little help from my friends... mmm, get high with a little help from my friends... mmmm, gonna try with a little help from my friends_," he sang delightedly as Malfoy slipped off Ginny's robes and began to remove the rest of her clothing, the Slytherins around them watching like dogs awaiting a treat.

Ron could no longer watch, closing his eyes and trying as best he could to shut the noises out of his ears, shaking impotently.

Ginny could only feel the pain of the hands grabbing her, and the many eager cocks which entered her paralysed body, and the horrible silence of her captive brother... and the bright green eyes that she had once loved so very much, now watching her humanity being stripped away with perverse joy.


	9. Chapter 9

The Quidditch pitch, filled with the delighted screams of students watching their broom-mounted peers flit through the air, was normally a place of comfort and friends to Hermione; in her world commanded by books and teachers, it was a simple and refreshing respite, being amongst her fellow Gryffindors and cheering wildly for the ones who were flitting through the air above... in particular, one with a lightning bolt etched onto his forehead.

She watched him now, but no longer was it with simple contentment nor with slight worry for his safety. Now... now she was consumed by worry, but not for him... rather, it was for those others whom she called friends, who were nowhere to be found.

Ron, she had not seen in days. And now Ginny had mysteriously vanished as well. Hermione glanced at Neville Longbottom, who sat beside her and who returned her worried gaze.

Hermione was becoming truly afraid now. After witnessing Harry's behaviour towards Ron that night in the common room and then seeing how enraged Ron was by Harry's lewd seduction of Ginny... she knew Ron well enough to know he couldn't easily let something like that go. And Harry did not seem at all concerned by Ron's sudden disappearance. Nor did he seem worried about the disappearance of Ginny, whom Hermione had last seen curled up happily in Harry's lap.

Hermione gazed across the pitch at the Slytherins, who were fronted by the weasel-faced Malfoy. Malfoy grinned at her, a feral grin that sent shivers down her spine and her insides crawling like snakes. _No... this isn't right_, she said to herself, and weakly she got up and left the pitch and the gleeful crowd behind.

_He's... Harry's not just cracked._

_He's __**dangerous.**_

She found herself suddenly in the library without having told herself to go there. It was where she went to make sense of the world. There were no complicated human emotions here, only quiet knowledge. She sat in a corner hidden by shelves of books, the same corner that she had seen Ginny and Luna sitting in not long ago, and she clutched at her face as the tears flooded forth.

The questions flooded her mind, and she was afraid of them... afraid of the answers she might receive.

"Hermione..."

She looked up at the soft voice that called her name, and met Harry's eyes.

She didn't know how long she had been sitting there, but apparently it had been quite a lot longer than she'd thought. Harry was still wearing his snug Quidditch uniform. Hermione tried not to notice how beautifully it fit him. She closed her eyes.

"Harry... _what is going on?_" she whispered. "Where are Ron and Ginny? And don't _tell_ me you don't know," she insisted fiercely, "Ron said something to you that day after he saw you and Ginny, I _know_ he did, and Ginny... you were the last person that anyone saw her with, and she's _gone_ and you don't even—"

"_Hermione_," said Harry again but this time more heatedly. "I _do_ know where they are, and I can explain if you'll allow me to."

Hermione was stunned into silence, and she stared up at him expectantly.

Harry sighed and sat beside her. "I know you're afraid... god, that's the worst thing about this. To see you like this, Hermione," he whispered, looking into her eyes with such worry and such love that Hermione had to avert her eyes and draw in a deep, shuddering breath to steady herself.

She shook her head in confusion. "What _is_ this, Harry? What's happened to you?"

"It's Voldemort," he answered quietly. "He's here, Hermione."

Hermione gasped. "What do you mean, he's _here?_"

He gazed at her, eyes shimmering dark. "He's... he's _in_ me, Hermione. He's... _becoming_ me."

Terrified realisation swept over Hermione. Voldemort had not made an appearance since that horrific night at the Ministry of Magic when Sirius had been killed. All anyone had heard of him was that his Death Eaters were still on the loose, but what he and they had been up to was a mystery to the wizarding world at large.

Hermione looked Harry over, the familiar warm colours of red and gold that made up his Quidditch uniform, the deep scars on his hand that formed the defiant words '_I must not tell lies_'... she looked back into his eyes, his penetrating verdant stare... but the green of his eyes was that of poison now, deadly and bright and mesmerising, and she had to turn away with a choking sob.

"What have you done with them?" she managed to get out.

"_He_," said Harry, "it was _him_... I can't... I can hardly remember... almost like a dream.. a nightmare." His voice was faint with horror. Hermione turned worried eyes to him, saw the fear that clutched at him.

She wanted to comfort him, to hold him... her dearest friend, powerful yet helpless... this was _Harry_, this was the boy who had first won her heart, and it killed her to see him fighting for his own identity.

Emotion squalled within her, all the things that she wanted to do and say at that moment fighting with one another. And then his hand took hers, and all those thoughts dissipated, leaving but one emotion which rang out with a deep, pounding truth: _I love this boy._

She flung her arms around his shoulders and hugged him fiercely. "I'm here for you, Harry," she said, voice trembling. "I _always_ will be."

Harry's arms lifted round her, pulling her close as she could get, and his face sank into her hair. He whispered her name as though it was a prayer, a sacred and protective word.

Hermione pulled away, not entirely but enough to look at his face. He gazed reverently at her. "Thank you, 'Mione," he said, and she responded with a soft smile.

Then she realised that usually hugs between friends did not last as long as this one now had. Her hands were on his shoulders and his hands were resting on her hips... before she could form another thought, his lips were on hers.

Reality sidestepped into chaos. This wasn't her world, the world she knew didn't allow her to be kissing the boy that she had so long wanted to kiss, and she wondered whether this was all a dream... but no. Her heart raced. It was real. She could smell the scent of him... and she could taste him.

She pulled back to gaze at him fearfully. "H—Harry..."

"Did you ever wish the rumours were true," he said huskily. "In fourth year, about us dating? Do you have... _any_ clue... how _hard_ I've fought these feelings all these years that I've known you?"

She closed her eyes. "Merlin, _yes_," she cried out and she then attacked his mouth. He moaned appreciatively and she felt a surge of blood to her loins as he attacked in turn, claiming her mouth as his fingers slithered up into her hair.

"Enough of that!"

The indignant cry of Madam Pince startled them apart, and she narrowed her eyes into dangerous slits. "Our Head Boy and Head Girl behaving so _shamefully_," she hissed at them, "I can only be thankful that the other students were spared such a disgusting sight. Now off to your dormitories at once, and you had both better show your titles more respect than you have here!"

Hermione was wracked with shame as she and Harry scurried out of the library, and once they were out she finally found the courage to look at Harry again. Her eyes rested on Harry's mouth, and the memory of how it had tasted filled her with warmth.

Harry gazed back at her with equal longing. "Do you, erm... do you want to go somewhere... where we... er..." He trailed off into reluctance to ask for what he so clearly desired, and instead begged Hermione with his eyes.

Of course, the overpowering answer in Hermione's mind at that moment was _yes_. But the rest of her, that not burning with lust, was all too aware that Harry was indeed dangerous, far more dangerous than Hermione had initially suspected.

He was her friend, yes. Her very best friend, and infinitely more than that. And... he was also Lord Voldemort.

_No. He's __**Harry**__, damn it_, Hermione insisted to herself, and she shook her trepidation away. "Yes," she said earnestly, "where do you want to go?"

Harry smiled with an innocence that bordered on evil. "Come with me," he purred silkily, taking her hand again and leading her out of the castle.

The voices inside her mind screamed louder in protest the further they travelled from the castle, but she looked down at Harry's backside and could only follow it. _The way his hips move as he walks is almost indecent_, she thought, drunk with desire.

They made their way into the trees of the Forbidden Forest, Hermione's heart thumping with alternating fear and excitement.


End file.
